


home

by mellowly



Series: lietpol week 2018 [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Historical References, Just some nice wholesome stuff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-13 13:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13571148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowly/pseuds/mellowly
Summary: some things you can't relive.some things are better now than before.(or: how to bid someone welcome home.)





	home

**Author's Note:**

> day 1 of lietpol week! prompt was: domestic.
> 
> just some sappy, silly fluff, with a hint of history and melancholy.

**late summer, warsaw, 2017**

* * *

 

After all, Lithuania likes domesticity. After all, after everything, left in the wake of a century's chaos,  _home_. 

Their home. Well, they don't live together-together any longer, and it's not like Lithuania is under any obligation to stay, to do housework, to make bigos for when Poland returns from an eight-hour meeting about roadwork in Szczecin - he just _does_ because it feels nice. 

The pot is on the stove, giving a low whistle of gas (Poland has yet refused to get an electric stove) and it's summer, almost autumn, clear golden light coming through the green-yellow leaves of the backyard apple trees. Lithuania hums along to the radio, some sort of Polish pop something-something playing at a low volume, and he finds himself looking out the window, lifting the short curtains to look for Poland coming down the road on his bike.

The house smells like clean sheets. There's a little breeze bringing the smell of laundry in from the balcony, rustling Lithuania's hair as he gives his stew a lazy stir, and he imagines it whispering to him.

_This is where you're supposed to be._

He doesn't have as many nightmares. Well, they're there, and so it will be for a long while still, but it's different when he can turn over in bed and tug Poland close, bury his face in soft golden hair and kiss the nape of his neck, at which point Poland will be waking up and asking if he's all right. Lithuania has begun to be honest when he replies yes.

Poland's nightmares are different. They don't wake him, Lithuania does, grabbing his hand gently when he hears him whimper, winding an arm around Poland's waist and whispering to him that it's okay, they're gone now, your house is standing and I am in it. I'm here to stay.  
We're here to stay.

They sleep in whenever they can nowadays.   
Lithuania was never a fan of wasting time, but really, as Poland usually says, _time together is not wasted time_.  
So they stay in till noon on Saturdays, and eat semolina for breakfast.

Poland makes hearts out of blueberries on his porridge and hands it to Lithuania, and they laugh together. Poland plays the piano. Lithuania listens. Lithuania goes to get the paper while Poland showers and uses all the hot water so Lithuania has to join him as soon as he gets inside.  
They kiss under the running water, slowly.

And nothing, nothing in the entire world feels as good as standing on the doorstep, arms open for Poland to fit between, to laugh and embrace him and say-

Welcome home.


End file.
